


The Crumbling Ground

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Hades and Persephone AU, M/M, for ewelock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:44:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off fan art by ewelock.</p><p>Hades and Persephone starring Bilbo and Thorin.</p><p>Doesn't follow the myth or The Hobbit book/movie perfectly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Crumbling Ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ewebean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewebean/gifts).



Bilbo had almost been to his door, his hands nearly around the door handle when the earth had ripped open. He'd turned around in shock and stared. Out of the ground came a dark-furred horse, and on it was an even darker haired rider. His eyes were a cold blue color, and at that moment they were firmly placed on him.

He would've run into his home, locked the doors, grabbed his weapons and hid in a closet, but he'd froze. His heart had beaten against his chest a mile a minute, to the point where he thought it would seriously injure him. He didn't move, didn't breathe. Bilbo was scared-very, very scared.

The man on the horse had smiled, hit it on the side, then ran straight towards him. He should've moved, but he couldn't. His hairy feet were frozen to the spot where he stood. His mind screamed "Run!" but he couldn't.

Instead of trampling him with his horse like Bilbo had expected, he grabbed him by the arm and threw him on his horse. Then the earth crumbled beneath his horse's feet and all Bilbo saw was unending darkness. He remembered screaming, at least until the rider put a hand over his mouth.

"Don't fear," he heard him say. His voice was soft, and he didn't sound angry. Instead, there was almost a sadness to it. "I will not harm you."

Then everything went black.

When Bilbo woke up he smelled water. His body was in an uncomfortable position, his head leaned against a-a lap? His eyes looked upward to see the man from before looking straight ahead, speaking to someone he couldn't see. He finally got a chance to study him-he had long, dark hair streaked with grey, a beard, and those cold blue eyes that had frozen him. He wore a light grey tunic with a darker grey armor over it. It had a repeating diamond pattern on it.

His eyes darted down and he smiled."I'm glad you woke up once we reached the docks," he said. "You might still be feeling a little sick, but it won't be a long walk from here. Or I can get another horse if you'd like and make the travel even faster."

"Where am I?" Bilbo's voice was weak, and he sounded as though he hadn't uttered a word in a long time.

"The underworld," the man stated. "I am Thorin." He helped Bilbo up, then got him off the boat. On it stood a man, stout and thin and completely hidden in black. Thorin pulled him away onto a dock, and then onto a rocky shore. Bilbo was still feeling weak, but Thorin didn't seem to mind leading him.

Bilbo had heard the name Thorin before, though he couldn't place where. His mind was swimming with so many questions. Why was he here? What did the man want? Did the man work for someone else? Had Bilbo done something wrong and was brought here as punishment? It didn't seem like what most gods would do, but he knew some could get rather angry.

The underworld seemed to be built underground. Bilbo didn't know how many stairs Thorin carried him down until they reached a room, but it seemed to take forever.

When they got inside, Thorin placed Bilbo down on the large bed in the center of the room. He turned away and began undressing himself.

"Why am I here?" Bilbo asked. His eyes looked around the room-rather simple with few furnishings other than the large amounts of jewels fit inside the stones. The floor and walls were completely made of it, and the furniture as well seemed carved from it. 

"You are not in danger," Thorin said as he began to take off his light grey tunic. "I appear terrifying but I promise to not hurt you."

"You didn't answer my question." He took a deep breath, then exhaled. "Why am I here?"

Thorin stopped removing clothing and took Bilbo in his arms. He held him gently, but underneath there was a layer of control.

"Because I am in need of someone to share of life with me." He began to pull off the cloak Bilbo had been wearing that day, then threw it across the room.

"Stop," Bilbo had said.

Thorin had done so.

"Am I your slave now?"

"You are my consort."

And Bilbo had finally released the food from earlier he'd been holding in. It was hot and heavy, and it kept coming out, as if all the food in his stomach had finally come out. It stained the sheets and part of his and Thorin's body. By the time he stopped the smell made him want to vomit more, but he'd released everything. His mouth tasted awful.

"I hate you," Bilbo said, breaking free from his grasp. He slipped on his own vomit and fell face first on the stone. His nose hurt and he feared he might have lost a tooth. Tears fell from his eyes. "I hate you, Thorin."

It finally hit him: Thorin was the name of the king of the underworld, the ruler of the dead.

 

~

 

When he woke up, he was alone. His head and face no longer hurt, but he had a slight headache. He appeared to be in the same room, but the sheets were different. The heavy smell of vomit was gone. He was cleaner, but he felt no comfort at that. He was naked, and that meant someone had to wash him. He felt his nose, and over it were multiple bandages.

He saw a few items on a nightstand he hadn't seen before by the bed. On it were a few items all neatly laid on a grey tunic. Bilbo realized that it was a change of clothes. He looked around the room only to see his clothes no longer there.

The items included a note and a large ring holding a sparkling white stone. Thorin hadn't been kidding about this consort business. Bilbo picked up the note. It read:

Bilbo (Bilbo didn't remember telling him his name. Had he planned this?),

I knew you would be shocked by this. I'll admit, I didn't expect you to vomit all over me. You've probably heard of me before, likely in unfavorable terms, but I assure you to cause you no harm. I do hope you recover quickly. If you need anything, ask and it's yours.

Also, if you leave this room that we share, you are required to wear the ring I have given you, and it must be easily visible.

Thorin

Bilbo felt food coming up, but when he tried to retch nothing came up. His stomach then growled furiously. How long had he been passed out?

He put the ring on, sickened on how easily it fit around his finger. Next, he grabbed his tunic and pulled it on. There was a pair of sandals on the ground, but he did not need them.

The stone floor was cold on his feet, but he kept walking. It seemed most of the energy he'd once had was gone. He was tired even after what must have been hours of sleep.

When he weakly opened the stone door, there were two people outside of it. Both looked to be rather young, and both dressed in armor designed with the same diamond pattern as Thorin's. One had a dark beard like Thorin, the other a lighter blond one.

"So here's who Uncle Thorin's been waiting on," the blond one said.

"He better show uncle a good time," replied the other.

"Yeah, he sure needs one." They snickered.

"He's been waiting for you to get up," the dark-haired one said. "He wants to show you off. I'll admit, I can see why he grabbed you and took you off."

"Uncle always gets what he wants," the blond said. "It must've been quite a shock for you. He's not the type to just ask you to walk in the fields with him. He's impulsive."

"You'd think I'd know that." Bilbo stated.

"I'm Kili," said the dark haired one.

"Fili," replied the other. "Now let's get you to uncle. He was scared when he learned you hadn't woken in four days, but after this he'll be relieved."

Four days? Bilbo thought.

"And though the underworld, or Erebor as we call it, is new and strange to you, you'll like it here. Uncle promises." Fili said.

"And Uncle always keeps his promises." Kili smiled, then patted Bilbo on the back. "Come on, we've got to go now."

 

~

 

The underworld, or Erebor as it was insisted he call it, was huge. It was dark and cold and made entirely of stone-and worst of all he was just expected to get used to it.

"It's really not so bad," Thorin had told him. "Once you get used to it it'll be like you've never known anything else." Thorin seemed completely confident in his words.

But I don't want to be like you, Bilbo thought. Thorin had explained to him every duty he had now that he was the, unwilling, consort of the underworld. He was expected to pass judgement on the dead, take an interest in gold and gems, make sure Fili and Kili didn't do anything bad (that was a handful of a job itself), and become what Thorin wanted him to be. Apparently he'd been the attractive god in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was now expected to love Thorin and be his partner for the rest of eternity, throwing out everything he once was for him.

And that was how the crying began. He didn't want to become that way, didn't want to forget the feel of warm, wet with dew grass to cold, dry, and hard stone. The smell of brightly colored flowers wasn't worth forgetting to the fake smelling incense in Erebor. Bilbo didn't want to become just another dark clothed figure in the halls of the dead.

He got back in bed after seeing Thorin, who had tried to reassure him that everything would be perfectly fine and that oh, you need to love me now even though I kidnapped you.

He'd cried for the grass, the flowers, the trees, and for all the mortals who loved and depended on him. He cried over being told that he absolutely must wear shoes of some kind when he didn't need any. The tears fell because in seconds his life was gone. 

I was almost to my door, Bilbo thought. If I'd gotten inside. . . No, he would've burst through the door anyway. It would've made a bigger mess. And I’d still be stuck down here. . .

He cried what seemed to be an endless flow of tears. His pillow and sheets were stained wet with tears along with the front of his tunic.

Thorin tried everything to get him out of bed.

"Do you like jewels, gold?" He held some in his outstretched hands. Though they glittered and shined, Bilbo could care less. "I'll shower you in them, give you as many as you ask."

Bilbo didn't ask for any.

“What must I give to make you happy? If it’s not jewels, is it power? Every damned soul here will kiss your feet and beg for your mercy.”

Bilbo almost wanted to laugh, but the tears still fell. What would he need power of all things for?

“What do you want?”

“I want to go home!”

He said nothing, just clenched his fists together. He left the jewels at the edge of his bed, as if that would actually make Bilbo grow a valid interest in them.

His servants sent food, some of the finest Bilbo had ever smelled. He hadn’t eaten in a long time, but he wasn’t going to start now. He refused everything offered to it. It seemed to make Thorin demand the food be all the more tantalizing. The meats made his mouth water, and the chocolate looked like gold to Bilbo. If it weren’t for the salt burning his eyes then he likely would’ve given in, accepted a bite of the cake. If he had, he wondered what would have happened. It sticks around in his thoughts for a long time.

 

~

 

One day Thorin comes in by himself, only holding a small plate of food. His face is blank. He sits down on the edge of the bed.

“I was told you eat these things called pomegranates,” he said.

He hadn’t seen food like that in a while here. The food always had little if no fruits or vegetables. It was likely because they were natural, and nature was the last thing you found here. Bilbo was hungry, hungry enough just to taste the juice and eat six seeds. That was all.

This time, when Thorin asked him to come with him, he came. He put on the black cloak Thorin handed him and followed him through the halls where the dead screamed. They passed a small hall mirror and Bilbo saw how pale he’d become, how lifeless his eyes were, how his hair had lost its color. He couldn’t muster up the energy to care.

You win, Thorin. Bilbo thought. He stepped up his pace as to not get lost in the cold, dark, and seemingly endless halls. You’ve finally broken me. He wanted to cry, but it was as if he’d cried all the tears he’d ever be allowed to. Now, his eyes were forever empty.

 

~

 

It became routine. Wake up, let Thorin run his hands through his hair, pull on clothing, go judge the dead, go look at gems, go eat a hearty dinner of meats and bread, go to the room he shared with Thorin and try to convince himself that he was happy, go to bed. Wake up, repeat. 

He knew Thorin better now. He could say he was happier to at least know beyond the rough exterior. It certainly didn’t fix all their problems, but it made things easier for both of them. He was actually nice, and Bilbo liked him.

His images of the world above, the memories of the feel of grass on his feet and the smell of flowers in his nose, faded. They all seemed like distant dreams. All he knew now was the feel of cold stone, hard gems (which he now wore, only to make Thorin happy), and rough hands and lips.

And then one day everything changed. He couldn’t remember who this was, but he was hairy-footed like Bilbo. He looked at him with distress.

“And why are you here?” Thorin asked. There was an angry glint in his blue eyes. “You do not appear to be dead.”

“I need him,” the man said. He pointed directly at Bilbo. “I don’t know what you’ve done with him, but I need him. Everyone needs him. It’s winter everywhere, and everyone’s dying of cold and hunger. We need him for warmth and crop.”

“Can you not see he sits beside me on a throne?” Thorin roared. “He has duties of his own now! Leave now or face my fury!”

Bilbo didn’t say anything. He wanted to leave, he really did, but there was no escape. Erebor’s jeweled walls was all he saw, the stone underneath his feet (when his sandals were off of course) all he felt. Fauna and flora seemed like a distant dream to him now. It couldn’t really exist, could it?

“Everyone will die!”

“They are free to live in my realms.”

“What must I do to let you give him back?”

Thorin clenched his fists.

“You don’t mean,” the man said. “I was warned of this. . .” He turned to face Bilbo. “Did you eat here?”

“Yes,” Bilbo said, his voice low and weak. “Why does it matter?”

“If you eat the food here then you cannot leave.” He turned around. “I should’ve known. I will go now. The dead will come in large packs now, so be warned and keep your halls warm and with lit torches.”

Thorin suddenly saddened. “Take him.”

“I can’t.”

“He ate only six seeds of a pomegranate, nothing else. He will stay up there six months and down here the other six.” He turned to face Bilbo and whispered, “Say you did not eat anything more. I’ll see you in six months.”

And tears pricked his eyes once again, something he thought he’d never experience again (but he was happy, so happy), then got up, threw off his cloak and sandals, then ran after the messenger to go to the upper world, if only to see if his dreams had been true.

If only to see spring.

 

~

 

When six months passed, a knock came on the door. Bilbo opened it to see Thorin standing there, his hand outstretched. Bilbo took it, and the earth crumbled under his feet before ultimately giving way completely. He did not scream this time.


End file.
